


courage

by kxrthxmmel



Category: Glee
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Episode: s02e06 Never Been Kissed, M/M, Missing Scene
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-07
Updated: 2020-10-07
Packaged: 2021-03-07 21:42:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,911
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26884591
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kxrthxmmel/pseuds/kxrthxmmel
Summary: kurt calls blaine after what happened in the locker room
Relationships: Blaine Anderson/Kurt Hummel
Kudos: 40





	courage

Blaine is lounging on his bed, the four walls of his door room grow darker as they’re casted with the shadows of the outside world as the sun begins to sink below the horizon. His tie is loose around his neck, his blazer is thrown over his desk chair and his tidily polished shoes are strewn near the door where he’d kicked them off a few hours ago.   
  
He has homework to be doing - he really can’t be late on his English assignment, not again, but as he lazily drapes himself against his bed, he’s not really thinking about the impending detention he’ll end up in if he doesn’t get up and start working.   
  
He’s thinking about Kurt.   
  
Kurt, the shy, timid boy that had bumbled himself in the front doors of Dalton Academy with a rather hilarious attempt at a recreation of the blazered uniform. Kurt who had a sweet voice and an even sweeter voice.   
  
Kurt who’s number was now stored in his phone after their chat over a private school cafe latte. 

The same number he’d texted hours ago:  _ Courage _ .   
  
He likes Kurt; they’d only spoken a handful of times, but Blaine felt like there was more to him that was drawing them together.   
  
And maybe it was just because Blaine saw a reflection of himself when Kurt had sat across the table from him with silent tears rolling down his cheeks. Maybe Blaine kind of liked that Kurt looked up at him like he was this ‘expert gay’.   
  
And maybe it was wrong, to enjoy the attention he found himself bathed in everytime Kurt would call him or text him for advice. But if it was harmless, which Blaine was sure it was, then maybe he could just let himself enjoy it a little longer.   
  
He’s halfway between convincing himself to get up and make a start on that damn homework when his phone buzzes in his hand. Any plans of being a good student fly out of the window when he sees Kurt’s number flash up on the screen, and the slightly self-indulgent feeling returns again as he answers, pressing the phone to his ear.   
  
He’s about to make a joke - riding the high that Kurt had called him once again, when he hears a choked off sob come through the speaker, the smile on his face drops off completely and he sits up off the bed so fast he almost falls off.   
  
“Kurt?” He speaks, voice feeling far too loud for how quiet the room is. There’s another hiccup, and rustling and a sniff, and Blaine is having about a million different thoughts as to what has happened.   
  
He has his own memory, face down on the floor of his old school parking lot, pulling himself up as the boy beside him cried down the phone to his dad as Blaine had wiped the blood from the nose with a grimace.   
  
“Kurt?” He tries again, stumbling to get up - if he has to leave he’ll need to go now. The journey to Lima is never an easy one, but he’ll happily earn himself a detention and a lecture if it means getting to Kurt right now. “What’s wrong? Are you alright?” He asks, voice cracking as he goes for one of his shoes.   
  
Kurt sniffs and then, finally, finally, he speaks. “No,” he whimpers. “I’m fine, but not really?”   
  
Blaine freezes. “What?”   
  
There’s another shuddered sob. “It’s just.... It’s Karofsky.”   
  
Blaine tenses, gripping his phone tight in his grip. “Where are you?” He asks, desperate for an answer that doesn’t include Kurt being somewhere hurt.   
  
“In my car,” Kurt whispers. “At school.”   
  
Blaine automatically glances towards the window. It’s dark out, and school ended  _ hours _ ago.   
  
“I just. I couldn’t go home,” Kurt’s voice wobbles. “Not yet.”   
  
Blaine swallows thickly, still frozen to the spot when he takes a steady breath - Kurt needs someone to be calm for him right now.    
  
“Do you… do you need me to come get you?” He asks gently and Kurt cries softly.   
  
“No,” he says, sounding like he probably wanted to say yes, instead, but Blaine doesn’t push.   
  
Blaine braces himself.   
  
“Are you hurt?” He asks.   
  
He’s praying to a god he doesn’t even fully believe in, that please, don’t let him be hurt. He doesn’t want to spend his evening having to go find Kurt in a dark parking lot with a trip to hospital to pull back long buried memories in his head.   
  
Kurt seems to take a breath when he tells him, “No. He didn’t hurt me,” he says before pausing. “Not like that, anyway.”   
  
Blaine’s blood goes cold at the tone of Kurt’s voice and how hurt he sounds. He knows Karofsky is a complete and utter asshole and whatever he’d done to Kurt to hurt him like this, emotionally or physically, Blaine was seriously considering ditching the whole courage mantra along with the plan for taking the high road, and maybe getting the Dalton Fight Club in on it for the sake of teaching this homophobic neanderthal a lesson once and for all.   
  
“Please don’t get angry,” Kurt’s voice cuts through him like a warm wave, bringing him back to the surface for a moment, and Blaine balks at how easily Kurt’s able to read him, even over the phone.   
  
“I’m not angry,” Blaine lies. “I just hate that he’s doing this to you,” he practically seethes.   
  
Kurt sobs again and Blaine feels his heart break in two.   
  
“What happened?” He asks. “Do you want me to call your dad?”   
  
Kurt’s voice is sharp and loud over the speaker. “No!” He gasps. “God, no, I- I can’t tell my dad,” he says, voice dropping low, and Blaine’s chest aches at the sadness in his voice.   
  
He was already aware of Kurt’s dad’s heart problems and hurts Blaine to know that despite the fact that he and his dad have such an admirable bond for a gay teenager and the typical blue collar, working class man living in Ohio, that there’s still some slight distance there, with Kurt pushing away, backing himself up into a corner like he imagines he’s done pretty much his whole life.

Kurt sniffs and Blaine takes a step back, the backs of his knees hit the bed and he sits back down, the mattress creaking under his weight.

“If you won’t let me come get you, or let me call your dad… do you wanna talk about it?” He tries, careful not to spook Kurt, like he was an injured animal he was trying to keep calm.

Kurt takes a breath, there’s the sound of rustling on the other end of the line, possibly a tissue to dry his eyes and clean his nose, when Kurt exhales shakily.

Of all the things Blaine could have predicted to come out of Kurt’s mouth, he hadn’t expected what he says next.

“Karofsky kissed me.”

His voice is a small whisper; timid and shy and unsure - just as unsure as Blaine feels when he hears the words.

He splutters and trips on his words as he tries to find words, but Kurt beats him to it.

“I confronted him,” he starts. “Like you said.”

Blaine’s heart sinks like a fucking  _ rock  _ at the hurt in Kurt’s voice as he relays his own stupid,  _ stupid  _ advice. He should never have encouraged Kurt to stick up to a guy like Karofsky. What was he thinking?

“And uh, we were in the locker room,” he continues, voice shaking. “And basically I told him what I think of him and… and… he-he  _ kissed  _ me.”

His voice drops to a low whisper, almost like he’s afraid that their conversation would be overheard, and it only fuels Blaine’s want to jump up and drive to Lima right now and scoop him up into his arms.

“Then what happened?” Blaine asks, brow creases at the confusion of it all. Was it some giant prank? An elaborate plan to go against Kurt?

Was Karofsky actually  _ gay? _

Kurt sucks in a sharp breath.

“Well. At first he tried to kiss me again,” he speaks, trying to laugh but it falls flat and Blaine flops back onto his bed with a heavy sigh.

“Shit, Kurt,” he says, squeezing his eyes shut tight, trying desperately to not to picture Kurt, pushed against the lockers with Karofsky of all people forcing himself onto him. “I should never have told you to confront him,” he tells him with regret. “You could have been hurt… or worse.”

Nausea clenches at his stomach at the thought.

But Kurt seems to be on the opposite side of the idea.

“No,” he sniffs. “God, no, Blaine don’t – please don’t blame yourself for this,” he says in a small voice. 

Blaine opens his eyes and stares up at the familiar dorm room ceiling.

“If anything, it made me realise a lot of things,” he adds, a mumble to his voice.

That felt like a huge understatement, Blaine thought to himself. Never in a million years had he guessed that Karofsky’s ignorance and hate came from some sort of internalised homophobia…

“What do you think I should do now?” He hears Kurt’s quiet voice squeak and Blaine sits up, rubbing his eye with a knuckle. 

“Kurt,” he starts, “maybe I’m not the best person to ask about this kind of thing…” he tells him, voice trailing off but he hears movement on the other end.   
  
“But, what you said, about having courage…”   
  
Blaine grimaces, his own false pretence of having courage hasn’t really gotten him far, and now he was possibly putting Kurt in harms way because of his own silly fantasy of enjoying the feeling of being able to be some gay superstar for Kurt when in reality he was just as afraid.

Kurt’s soft voice pulls him from the void of spiralling thoughts he’s falling into.   
  
“What if we didn’t have to do it alone?”

Blaine blinks. “Huh?”   
  
There’s a pause, then,   
  
“I think you’re really brave, Blaine,” Kurt tells him. “Even if maybe you only act like you are, I’ve never met anyone like you…” he takes a breath. “Anyone like you that I could ever look up to. Someone I want to be like.”   
  
Blaine feels a clench in his heart.   
  
“Kurt…” He starts, voice wobbling but he’s cut off.   
  
“And I know that you owe me literally nothing,” he says. “I spied on your team, I bombarded you with my personal problems and I barely give you space to breathe between me calling and text you to update you on all of this stupid…  _ Karofsky _ business.”

Blaine frowns, even though Kurt can’t see his expression.    
  
“I don’t do favours,” Blaine tells him. “I just know that friends help friends, and I’d like to consider you a friend, Kurt.”   
  
He can imagine the smile from the other boy’s face and it makes Blaine feel a little less awful.   
  
“You’re my friend, too, Blaine.”   
  
Blaine stretches his legs out in front of him; his English assignment will have to wait. There were more pressing matters at hand.   
  
“I’ll come over,” Blaine tells him confidently. “Tomorrow. You’re right about not having to be brave alone. We’ll talk to Karofsky, the two of us, together.”   
  
There’s silence on the other end and for a small moment, Blaine wonders if Kurt’ll protest, but he’s pleasantly surprised when he hears his response.   
  
“Sounds like a plan.”

Blaine smiles. “It’s a start, at least.”


End file.
